


third gear, hang on tight

by slightlytookish



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 12:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlytookish/pseuds/slightlytookish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The entire team is called to a crime scene just as Chandler's car breaks down. Luckily (or unluckily) Kent's scooter just happens to be available.</p>
            </blockquote>





	third gear, hang on tight

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to persikay for cheerleading and for suggesting the title (which is from "Little Honda" by The Beach Boys).

A body had just been discovered at the library – the second body in as many days, killed in the same way and left in the same spot as the first. The entire team had been called to investigate and there was no time to lose, and Chandler's car chose that exact moment to break down.

"But it was fine this morning," he said, trying to start it yet again. The car gave one last pitiful wheeze before lapsing into an ominous silence. Beside him Miles groaned and shook his head, but Chandler could only stare at the steering wheel in shock. Like everything else he owned, he kept his car in pristine condition. Repairs were made in a timely manner, he never let it run out of petrol, and it was spotlessly clean inside and out. It seemed unthinkable that it would simply stop working, especially without giving him some sort of warning. "We'll have to take your car, Miles."

"I don't have it today," he said, sounding apologetic as they climbed out of the car. "The baby had to go to the doctor, so Judy took it. But Riley's got her car, we'll just go with her."

Miles shouted across the car park at their three DCs, telling them not to leave yet, and with a growing feeling of dread Chandler followed him to where Riley's car was parked. It looked even smaller than Chandler had remembered; it would fit four people, just barely, but it seemed to him that they would have to defy all the laws of physics in order to fit all five of them at once. He turned to Mansell with one last shred of hope and said, "What happened to your car?"

"My ex got it after the divorce," Mansell said with a rueful grin. "I suppose we'll have to squeeze in together, boss. Nice and cosy." 

Chandler couldn't keep from shuddering at the thought. He fumbled for the pot of Tiger Balm in his pocket and quickly applied some to his temples, trying to brace himself for the ordeal ahead.

Miles was watching him with obvious concern but it was Kent who spoke next. "I'll meet you there, sir," he said, turning towards his scooter, which was parked nearby. "You'll have more room without me."

Chandler felt a sudden rush of relief. It wasn't the first time that Kent had gone out of his way to try and make a situation more comfortable for him; after all, it had been months since Kent had caught him collecting the rubbish from everyone's desks in the evenings and since then he couldn't help but notice that Kent had taken on that task himself, leaving the incident room tidy enough even for Chandler's admittedly high standards. Kent's concern was oddly touching, and it made Chandler feel absurdly grateful – and it made him feel something else that he wasn't certain he wanted to identify, so he quickly pushed that thought aside. They were late enough already without him finding something else to worry about in the middle of the car park. 

"Thank you, Kent," was all that he said, and Chandler even managed a faint smile now that everything had been sorted. He was just about to get into Riley's car when Ed came rushing out of the police station, carrying a tall stack of files and books that wobbled precariously with every step. 

"I thought you'd left without me," he said, pushing his way past Chandler and shoving his files through one of the open doors. "Thank goodness I caught up with you in time."

"This is a police investigation, not a school trip," Miles said, coming around from the other side of the car in order to glare at Ed more effectively. 

Chandler, for his part, could only watch numbly as the pile of books took up most of the back seat. "Ed, what are you – there's no need for you to come–"

"Oh, but there is every need!" Ed replied. Chandler watched, grimacing, as he grabbed some loose papers that had fluttered to the ground and threw them in with the rest, mud and all. "I did most of the research for my book at that library. There was a period when I spent more time there than I did in my own home. If there is anything suspicious to be found – even a single book that was not returned to its proper shelf – I will know it."

If Ed really had spent as much time at that particular library as he claimed he did, then Chandler couldn't argue with his logic. Perhaps he would discover some sort of vital clue that would make all the difference in their investigation. Chandler felt he owed it to the victims to use every resource available to help find their killer, and so Ed would have to come along.

But that didn't solve the problem with the car. "Must you bring your books?" Chandler said desperately. 

"You know I can't work without my notes, Joe," Ed said, giving him a reproachful look.

"And none of us will get anything done today if we waste any more time standing around in this car park," Miles snapped. He turned to Kent and jerked his thumb in the direction of the scooter. "You can take someone along, can't you?"

Kent nodded, though he seemed a little startled by the suggestion. "There's plenty of room for you, Skip."

"Me? Not with my back," Miles said. "One of you kids will have to go."

Riley laughed and shook her head. "I'm driving," she said, and practically dove into her car.

"I'd never fit on that thing," Mansell said, patting his stomach in what Chandler thought was a blatant exaggeration. 

"But where would I put my books?" Ed wondered.

Chandler could feel everyone's eyes settling on him. "Oh, _god_." His team couldn't really expect him to get on that thing, could they?

In his peripheral vision he could see that Kent had crept up alongside him and was holding out a helmet. "I've got a spare one, sir," he said quietly. "It wouldn't be any trouble."

Chandler stared at the helmet with a growing sense of horror. He couldn't believe that he had been so pleased by Kent's eagerness to help just a few moments before. Why couldn't he have been unreliable for a change? 

"We could always tie someone to the roof, sir," Mansell offered with a grin. Riley stifled a laugh, but Miles' eyes flickered over to Ed as if he was truly considering it. Chandler forced himself to take a deep breath, and then another, and sternly reminded himself that he was leading an investigation and really needed to get on with it. 

"All right," he said, reaching for the spare helmet. He was fairly certain that he had never seen Kent look happier than he did at that moment.

"That's sorted, then," Miles said, herding the others into the car. "Come on, get in. There's a crime scene waiting for us. We'll meet you there," he added, turning to Chandler and giving him a knowing look. Chandler nodded gratefully in reply; of course Miles knew that he wouldn't want everyone standing around and watching him as he grappled with the situation.

As the rest of the team drove away, Chandler turned to the scooter and eyed it nervously. "I've never – what do I…?" He let his voice trail off helplessly and wondered, for the first time in his career, why he wasn't one of those DIs that sat behind a desk all day.

"There's nothing to it, sir," Kent said, giving him a small but encouraging smile. "Just put on the helmet and get on, I'll take care of the rest."

The thing was, Chandler thought to himself as he carefully inspected the helmet for any dents or cracks before putting it on, deep down he trusted Kent to get them to the library safely. It was difficult to admit that, even to himself. It wasn't ever easy for Chandler to relinquish control to someone else and the fact that he was about to do just that, even for the relatively short trip to the library, caused his stomach to curl itself into a knot. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to steady himself. He felt himself reaching for the Tiger Balm again and twitched his fingers away in irritation. He took another deep breath, and when he opened his eyes he saw that Kent was already seated on the scooter, adjusting the chin strap of his helmet as he waited patiently for him. Kent was always patient with him, Chandler thought, and seemed to be just as understanding of his habits and ways as Miles was, though in a less direct fashion. The thought only made Chandler's stomach curl even tighter. 

"I'm ready," he said, more to convince himself than anything else. "Should I just… climb on, then?" He cringed, feeling foolish, and was thankful when Kent didn't laugh at him.

"Whenever you're ready, sir," Kent said, smiling again. It ended up being less difficult than Chandler had anticipated – he supposed he should be glad that he was so tall, since he was able to get his leg over the side easily and without having to ask Kent for any assistance, which would have been humiliating. But once he was settled he couldn't help thinking that he must look ridiculous – he felt like his knees were somewhere around his ears even though he knew that, logically, they weren't – and he made certain to leave as much room between himself and Kent as possible without falling off the seat entirely.

Kent shifted a little in order to look back at him. "You might want to hold on, sir."

"What? Oh, of course," Chandler said. He looked around in vain for some sort of handlebar to hold before he realised that Kent had meant that he'd better hold on to _him_. After another deep breath to steel himself, he took hold of Kent's arms just above his elbows and clasped them in a grip that could only be described as 'clinging on for dear life.'

"Sir?" Kent's voice sounded so tentative, so careful, as if he was afraid of spooking Chandler even more than he already was – which, of course, only served to make him feel even more anxious. "I'm going to need my arms."

"…Sorry." Chandler shifted his hands to Kent's waist and squeezed his eyes shut, trying very hard not to panic. 

Not panicking took so much energy and concentration that Chandler didn't even notice that their journey had begun until after Kent pulled out of the car park and onto the road, causing him to slide forward so that his chest was pressed against Kent's back. Chandler yelped and his eyes flew open in surprise, but instead of pulling away as he intended he found himself gazing around almost in awe at the cars and buildings they passed – the same cars and buildings he passed every day, on the way to work in his own car, that somehow seemed different from this new vantage point.

"All right, sir?" Kent called back over the sounds of the traffic around them. 

"Yes," Chandler said, and was astonished to discover that he was telling the truth. 

He had to admit that it wasn't as horrible as he'd imagined. Kent was driving carefully, they weren't going very fast, and the scooter seemed sturdier than it looked. At least, Chandler didn't feel like it was going to flip over at any moment. He dared to relax the tense hunch of his shoulders, just a bit.

It was actually quite fun, he thought after a while, even when they took a sharp turn onto a busier street that made him hold onto Kent even more tightly – _especially_ then, in fact, if Chandler was being truly honest with himself. For some reason, the thought didn't make him feel as anxious as he would have expected.

They stopped at a light, and Kent looked back at him. "Are you really all right, sir?" Even from behind the visor of the helmet, Chandler could see the edge of Kent's doubtful expression. 

"I am. It's not as terrible as I expected, it's – well, it's fun," Chandler admitted, determined to be completely truthful with himself and with Kent for a change. The surprised, pleased smile that Kent rewarded him with just before the light turned green made Chandler think that he ought to be more honest about a few other things in the future, too. 

Chandler was still mulling over that thought when they arrived at the library. Riley's car was parked out front, the rest of the team having already gone inside, and Chandler and Kent immediately followed suit. They passed Dr. Llewellyn at the door, and she gave Chandler a sympathetic smile. 

"I heard about your car," she said. "I could give you a lift back to the station later, if you'd like." 

It was a kind thought, but Chandler didn't even stop to consider it. "Thank you," he said, reaching out blindly for Kent's shoulder. He could feel the dejected slump of it through his jacket and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "But I think I'd rather go with Kent, as long as he doesn't mind."

He looked over in time to see Kent's expression change from crestfallen to hopeful. "It's fine with me, sir," he said, sounding so delighted at the prospect that Chandler couldn't help but smile in return.

"We'd better find the others," he said, and he kept his hand on Kent's shoulder as he steered him past Llewellyn and her knowing grin.


End file.
